Escapism
by Little Eirtae
Summary: How Stranz and Fairchild got banned from Disney World. Stranz/Fairchild


**Title:** Escapism, or How Stranz and Fairchild Eventually Got Banned from Disney World  
**Pairing:** Stranz/Fairchild  
**Rating:** PG-13 or T  
**Word Count:** 900  
**Warnings:** Twincest, oh noes! Plus the defilement of the dreams and fantasies of children everywhere.  
**A/N:** Written for the Travel Challenge during Amnesty Week at the bog100 LJ community. Parts I, II, IV, and V are 100-word drabbles; part III is a 500-word drabble.

I

"So, Stranz and Fairchild, what are you going to do now that you've got your very first gold medal?"

The reporter made the unfortunate decision to offer the microphone to Stranz first.

"Wear it in the shower!" Stranz declared with his usual inappropriate enthusiasm.

Fairchild took advantage of the crowd's momentary bewilderment to simultaneously bring her stiletto heel sharply down on her brother's foot and grab the microphone from the hands of the flummoxed reporter.

She pasted on her most charming smile and giggled saccharinely. "Silly Stranz! _Actually_..."

She paused dramatically before announcing, "We're going to Disney World, of course!"

II

Their first day at the happiest place on earth was surprisingly peaceful.

Granted, Stranz's misguided attempt to join the hula girls onstage during an evening luau had ended rather embarrassingly.

And despite professing to be "quite gifted" when it came to video games, he managed to break nearly every "fastest loser" record at the Disney Virtual Reality Arcade. The first time he "died" in-game, Fairchild had to slap him to convince him that he wasn't actually dead; luckily, he handled it better each subsequent time.

All in all, Fairchild reflected as they climbed into bed, it was a good day.

III

It was twilight in the Magic Kingdom on the last day of their trip.

After being stalked by tweenaged fangirls all day and forced to sign more autographs than Mickey and Minnie combined, the exhausted siblings were headed for the exit.

"I wanna stay and watch the fireworks show," Stranz muttered sulkily.

"I'm beginning to think that there's a downside to this whole fame thing," Fairchild sighed, ignoring him.

Abruptly, he grabbed her arm and started pulling her in the opposite direction.

"I've got an idea!" he proclaimed.

"Stranz!" she rebuked sharply. "Let go of me this instant!"

"It's a good one this time!" he pleaded, wide-eyed and pouting.

It was the pout that did her in.

He dragged her through the park, past crowds streaming toward Cinderella's Castle to catch the fireworks.

"Where are we _going_?" she whined for the tenth time.

"You'll see," he repeated.

They rounded a corner and found themselves at the Treehouse, an extensive network of swinging bridges and winding staircases nestled in the branches of a giant tree.

He started up the first staircase and beckoned for her to follow him. She rolled her eyes theatrically, but obeyed.

She was still griping when they reached the top, but Stranz placed a finger on her lips and pointed at the illuminated sky.

"Look."

The entire Magic Kingdom stretched out before them, as if they were floating on a dais borne by clouds and rustling leaves. In the distance she could see the castle itself, the only structure that rivaled their height. The fireworks bathed everything below in vibrant blues, greens and reds.

She tore her gaze away from the magnificent sight to see Stranz watching her triumphantly.

"I knew you'd like it," he said, and she was struck by the mixture of pride and hopefulness in his voice, as if he wanted nothing more in the world than to please her.

"It's beautiful," she replied softly.

She leaned against the railing, and he tentatively moved closer and wrapped his arms around her waist. And because the view was so breathtaking, and this was their last day of vacation, and he tried so hard to make her happy, she let him.

Far below, she could see the silhouettes of stragglers frantically rushing to catch the last few minutes of fireworks, and she giggled at the irony. It was hard to imagine that Stranz, of all people, was the only guest in the whole park to realize the perfect view available from up here.

And she had to hand it to him – this place was incredibly peaceful. The only noises were the wind in the leaves, the "pop" of the fireworks, and the sound of the kisses he pressed into her hair.

She knew she shouldn't encourage these displays of intimacy, especially in public, but the falseness and severity of real life would begin again tomorrow. So for now she settled against his chest, sighing contentedly, and thinking briefly that this was almost as good as skating.

IV

Years later, it hurt to remember that trip.

They had been so young, so optimistic. After winning their first gold medal, they felt like they could conquer the world. And they had... for a while.

But huddled in a corner, staring at the grey walls of her prison cell, it occurred to Fairchild that the moment in the treehouse had been one of the last truly happy times they had spent together. When they returned home, it began again – grueling practices, rigorous schedules, the endless quest for _more_.

If she ever got a chance, Fairchild vowed to do things differently.

V

When they won in the appeals courts years later, they returned to their treehouse spot to celebrate.

They entered through the exit because it was quicker, and raced up the twisting steps to the uppermost platform, high on life and giddy with adrenaline.

He pinned her against the railing and crushed his lips to hers, fingers toying with the zipper of her miniskirt.

Fireworks crackled overhead, but they, who had participated in three Wintersport Games opening ceremonies, barely noticed. For them, there was only touch and taste and each other.

This was the perfect opposite of prison. This was freedom.


End file.
